


The Candlelight Prince

by Trickkyy



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Childhood Friends, Dragon Sherlock, Dragon!Lock, Dragonlock, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Growing Up Together, John is a Prince, Johnlock - Freeform, Kidlock, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Sherlock, Rating May Change, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 02:20:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12181011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trickkyy/pseuds/Trickkyy
Summary: Through tales told both young and old,a lonely prince kept in his fold.Upon a candle being lit,calls upon a dragon nestled in it's fiery pit.Of love and loss that ails the prince,can eyes of ice surely convince...?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Finally a new fic! 
> 
> I've had this idea for a while now, but writers block and school have kept me from writing. I hope you enjoy!

“Mum” a little voice called through the open doorway to the Queens bedroom. A stream of candlelight shone through the room, exposing a small face with a mop of sandy blonde hair and deep blue eyes peeking through the opening. 

Queen Yela sat up in her bed with tired eyes as she beckoned her little boy into the room, “John, my sweet child, what are you doing up at this hour?”

The little boy rubbed at his right eye with a balled up fist before walking over to the large sized bed and extending his arms to be picked up. Yela chucked, grabbing the candle from his hand and setting it down on her bedside table before reaching for her little boy. 

“I couldn't sleep, would you tell me a story please?” Johnuin asked, snuggling closer to his mother for warmth as she cuddled him in her arms. 

“Do you promise to try and get some rest again if I do?” she smiled.

Johnuin nodded with a smile. He had always loved his mother’s stories; especially when they were tales of dragons and magic. She could go on for hours and hours about the great dragons of old and the bond between them and humans before the Great War. Harriet, his older sister, would laugh them off - calling them ‘mums made up nonsense’ and 'old biddies tales' that held no truth. “They’re just stories, Johnuin, that’s all they are. You'd be stupid if you actually believed them! Mother's just coddling you as per usual - filling your mind with useless fluff.” 

Deep down, little Johnuin wanted the stories to be true. He never once let his sister get to him and was certain that she was wrong. Mother never lied to him and even said that though the numbers dwindled, the presence of dragons would never cease to exist. 

“There once was a time…” Queen Yela began, “When Dragons had roamed this Earth freely with humans at their side. We were two halves to a whole, a pact that could never be broken. We fought, lived and roamed together in a world where we thought was good and free. They used to call us _Veleth_ , meaning: bond-mate." 

“Were dragons nice, mum?” 

Yela smiled down at her son and planted a kiss atop his yellow strands, “Yes of course, my love, there were some of them that were very kind.” 

John giggled and snuggled closer to his mother, “And how did you know if they wanted to be your friend?”

“Well…” Yela began, eyes wandering the dark room until they fell upon the candle still flickering on her bedside table, “They offer up a flame.”

“A flame? What kind of flame, mum?”

“Any kind of flame, my love. A flame is a dragons most precious and thoughtful gift, and once they offer it three times, it means that they want you to be their _Veleth._ What is most important about being a dragons _Veleth_ , Johnuin, is that it's a bond that lasts for a lifetime. They are offering both their companionship and trust to you. To both accept and seal that bond, a human must then offer up the dragon's precious gift back to them."  

"We must give them a flame back, mummy?"

"Yes, my dear." 

“But that's silly, mummy” Johnuin giggled, earning a smile from his mother, “humans can't breathe fire.”

“No, of course not little menace,” she chuckled, “but with a little bit of work and time, we can create a flame so beautiful that even a dragon can appreciate." 

Johnuin hummed in agreement, eyes slowly closing as he listened to the steady beat of his mother’s heart, “Did you know any dragons, mum?”  

“You know...I knew a young girl who befriended a dragon once.” 

Little Johnuin gasped and sat up in excitement, “Did you really, mum?!”

“Mhm.” 

“Harry says dragons aren't real though, says they’re just in your stories.” 

Yela frowned, “Just because you've never seen one doesn't mean they don't exist, Johnuin. And I'll tell you a little secret...” 

Yela bundled up her son and whispered in his ear as he started to settle down, “I've met one.” 

-

“Mummy!” Harriet called, running to the rose bush that the Queen was currently crouched over, picking at her freshly bloomed flowers. 

Yela had just turned around in time to notice the small girl trip over her skirts and fall to the ground, landing head first in a pile of mud. “Oh my dear!” She called, rushing over and wiping the dirt from Harriet's face with her skirt. 

“Mummy,” Harriet groaned.

“Yes, love” the Queen asked, licking her thumb and running it over a dirt smudge just above her daughter's eyebrow. The act made Harriet cringe and pull away, but Yela tightened her hold until she was finished. “I'm all ears now, my love. What is it?”

“It's Johnuin, mummy, he's in the woods again.” 

“Why is he there? Is Sir Richard with him?” 

“No mummy, I didn't see him. Johnuin said he was looking for ‘Dragons’ again. He said that you told him another one of your stories and now he thinks he'll find one! I keep telling him they don't exist!” 

The queen rose quickly from her spot and scanned the tree line of the woods before bringing her attention to Harriet once more, “How far did he go?” 

“I left him at the sparkly pool, I didn't want to go too far and get in trouble.”

“Harriet you should not have left your brother alone! We will discuss this later. Go inside now and tell Sir Richard of my whereabouts.” 

“Where are you going, mummy?” 

“To find your brother.” 

-

The Elder Woods were known for tales of mythical beasts and unknown wonders. It was safe enough to travel through and mostly used as a trading route for workers and merchants. However wonderful the forest was, it was never a good idea to go through it alone. For there were still beasts that lurked the woods at night and poisonous insects and plants that splayed across the forest floor during the day. 

Yela pushed through the forest, eyes scanning every inch of foliage and small bundle of boulders, while trying to spot either a small head of golden hair or a tiny wooden bow peaking above the tall grass. “Johnuin!” She called, lifting her skirts to avoid being caught on fallen branches while edging her way to Whispering Waters.  

On the horizon, the familiar sparkling ice blue water glowed an almost pale blue that shimmered atop the calm surface. It was like a beacon compared to the dark spiraling trees that littered around it.

“Johnuin!” She called again, but was faced with the deafening silence around her. Yela walked along the perimeter of the water as the sun began to set and the world around her slowly changed to night. 

It felt like several hours had passed before she heard the rusting of grass behind her as footsteps approached, “My lady!” a voice called from behind. 

“Sir Richard!”

“My lady, it's getting too dark to traverse the forest, we must head back now!”

Yela shook her head, turning back to the water, “I cannot leave, Johnuin is still out here!”

Sir Richard reached for the Queen whose body began to shake as tears streamed down her face. “My lady, please. Myself and the guards will continue to look for prince Johnuin, but we must escort you back to the castle for your safety first!” 

It took a while, but Yela was forced to co-operate and went back through the darkened woods toward the castle. Her world was slowly falling apart - images of her son being lost or worse… dead, flooded her mind - it wasn't until they reached the castle perimeter that she heard a small voice calling after her. Yela froze, turning back to the forest when she spotted a little golden head running toward her amongst the darkness.

“Mummy!” Johnuin called, feet crunching through fallen leaves as he ran straight into his mother's arms.

“Oh Johnuin! My sweet, sweet child you are safe!” 

Yela squeezed her son tight, planting kisses on his head before letting go reluctantly and wiping at her eyes, “Where were you, my love!?” 

“I found a little boy just like me mum! He was at the shiny pool collecting some water for one of his experiments - I think that's what he said… anyway, he was very shy but I think we’re friends now! We played hide a seek and collected berries too!” 

Yela rubbed at her eyes before she noticed a spark of light held in the grip of her son’s left hand. She frowned at it before her eyes widened in recognition. 

“Johnuin…” she asked, wiping a tear from her cheek, “where did you get that candle?” 

“The little boy gave it to me” Johnuin smiled, “he said it would help me find my way home.” 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Sherlock!” The booming voice reached his ears before he was able to set down his water samples on the table. Mycroft was always paranoid; yelling at him once he stepped out of the safety of their cave. He guessed it all came to a head after the 'Turkish Boy' incident, but Sherlock couldn't have cared less. He was still a young dragonling and should be able to explore while he can. 

Heavy steps reverberated off the rocks and stilled once the large figure stood right before his baby brother. Sherlock let out a sigh before turning to glare at his big dragon brother. 

“What did I tell you about leaving the cave?…” The deep and gravely voice made the tiny human form flinch. 

“I wanted some air.” 

Mycroft bent down so that his snout was directly in front of the small head and let out a gust of air from his nostrils, causing the mop of dark curls to fly back until they were sticking up in all different directions.

Sherlock’s eye shut on instinct, digging his nails slowly into his palm, “I'm thirteen years old!” 

“Which is the reason _WHY_  you are not to leave this cave, Sherlock!” Mycroft took on his full height once more before gently grabbing a corner of his brother's tunic with his teeth and lifting him up off the ground. Sherlock couldn't do anything now but cross his arms with a frown. 

Mycroft brought him to their nest; a pile of blankets and plush dressings at the very back of their ornate cave and beside the tunnels leading to their kingdom. “Change your form” Mycroft ordered, setting his stubborn brother down before circling the bed, trying to find the perfect spot to rest. 

“They aren't bad, you know” Sherlock huffed, still standing stubbornly with his arms crossed. 

Mycroft’s golden eyes shot to him and narrowed dangerously, “What did you say….”

“The humans,” Sherlock held his head up defiantly, “they aren't bad like you say.” 

Sherlock could feel the fake skin on his body prickle as time went on slowly with Mycroft’s dangerous glare on him. He already knew he messed up by venturing beyond the cave before his twenty-fifth year into dragon maturity.

“They aren't awful until they rip apart your fair scales and parade them on their backs” Mycroft growled. 

“This one was different-“ Sherlock froze, cursing his tongue for it's awful timing to spill the truth. He had met his first human; a child like himself. Before he had time to take it back, Mycroft’s eyes held fire and Sherlock had ducked just in time to avoid getting burned from the sudden burst.  

“That's it!” Mycroft roared, charging to the cave mouth and throwing himself against the wall. The opening shook as boulders fell from the mountain top, blocking the entrance completely. “You will either wait until your twenty-fifth year or you are banished to leave the cave. Permanently!” 

“That's not fair!” 

Mycroft rounded on him and stomped angrily to their nest, “Life is not fair, Sherlock! Not with Moriarty running around amongst the humans!” 

Sherlock felt defeated. He had just met his very first human child and already the young boy had caught the dragonling’s interest. 

He had made a terrible mistake.

-

Sherlock pulled out a small glass vial from his satchel and crouched over the crystal water. This would be an ideal sample for his experiment. Tonight was the perfect night to venture from the cave, as his older brother had duties to attend to with the other dragons. 'Stay put, Sherlock, I expect for you to be here when I return', Mycroft had told him before proceeding down the tunnel to their kingdom. 

Stay put? HA! Who did Mycroft think he was, the King of dragons? 

That was in fact Mycroft's title after the death of their parents. Sherlock hissed, tousling his dark curls in frustration before a small gasp made his neck snap to the source. At the other side of the pool, standing so close to the edge of the water, stood a small boy with golden hair and deep blue eyes. Sherlock’s eyes widened as he noticed the pale light reflecting off the golden strands, making him look almost ethereal. 

He quickly grabbed all the vials, stuffing them into his bag and was about to bolt to safety when a small voice caught his attention.

“Who are you, boy?” 

Boy. So the stupid little human didn't even recognize the skin coloured scales covering the tops of his hands. He would have to practice his magic, so that every scale would be covered before his twenty-fifth year. 

When Sherlock remained silent - just staring - the little golden boy just smiled at him and carefully trekked over to him, boots caked in mud, “Can you speak?” 

Sherlock nodded.

The golden boy smiled, “Then why don't you?” 

Sherlock shrugged.

The little golden boy scanned the woods with a frown until those perfect eyes settled on Sherlock once more, “Are you out here alone?” 

Sherlock nodded. 

The little boy shifted the bow on his back - making the dragon’s eyes notice the steel point arrows - before extending a hand, “I'm Johnuin.” 

Eyeing the hand skeptically, Sherlock made no move to sniff it. Instead, he just stared at it until he heard a giggle erupt from the younger boy. 

“You're a bit strange, but I don't mind. My mum said it's rude to judge a book by its cover.” 

“I'm not a book” Sherlock spat, not realizing his tone made the other boys smile falter. 

“So you do talk. Why are you here?” 

He was bored now, wasting his time occupying a child while he could be collecting more samples. Instead, Sherlock turned back to his collection so far and crossed out ‘Water’ from the list. He thought for sure that ignoring the problem would make it go away, but no; Johnuin snatched the list from his fingers, turning it around to read the letters scribbled on it. 

“Wow” Johnuin said with interest, “I've never seen writing like this before.” 

Damn. His cover was blown. 

Sherlock was getting ready to run again when the paper was pushed back into his hands, “What does that say?”

The dragonling was stunned, this kid hadn't noticed anything; or he did but refused to mention the unusual, “A-Aveloth berries…” he mumbled. 

“Oh! I know where those are!” Johnuin smiled, running deeper into the forest to return not even three minutes later with a handful of them. Sherlock took them carefully, giving them a sniff until a corner of his mouth lifted in a tiny grin. 

For quite some time the two boys ventured around the pool and surrounding area for more of the things on Sherlock's list. With all the warnings that Mycroft relayed to him about being in the presence of humans, Sherlock could never possibly have an ill thought of Johnuin. He was smart in his own way, interesting beyond compare and Sherlock was growing quite fond of him more than he would care to admit. 

The two of them were examining the rare Botelyth Beatle further into the foliage when a woman's voice frantically called Johnuin’s name in the distance. 

“Oh no!” The little golden child cursed, getting up from his spot in the dirt and brushing at his trousers, “That's my mum calling me.”

Sherlock nodded, following suit before he grimaced at the thought of Mycroft’s reaction to his absence. He had completely lost track of time spending his evening with his new acquaintance. 

“Will I see you again, boy?” The question jolted Sherlock from his thoughts. See him again? This human didn't mind spending his time with a dragonling…even one like himself?…

“I-“ he started but was cut off by Johnuin cutting him off, “I'll be here again tomorrow. Will you come?” 

Sherlock nodded dumbfounded. 

Johnuin smiled up at him and grabbed his bow and quiver, securing them on his back. The little boy was just about to venture in the dark alone when a candle, with a brilliant flame, was pushed into his hands. 

“Take this. It'll help you find your way home.” 

Without another word, the golden boy nodded and sent a wave the dragonling’s way before making his way back to wherever home was.  

-

Curled up in Mycroft's embrace, Sherlock counted the beat of his brothers heart against the armoured skin. He huffed out a sigh through his deep purple snout while his mind raced with thoughts of the boy. How in one day Sherlock had managed to change his whole opinion on the human race by one little child, was a mystery not even he could figure out.

Now, lying there with the realization that the promise he made to Johnuin would be broken, Sherlock curled tighter into himself. 

“I'm sorry” he whispered to the darkness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this story does not have a schedule for updates! 
> 
> Comments & Kudos are always appreciated <3


	3. The Party: Part 1

_12 years later._

 Johnuin rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he stretched out on his bed, bones and muscles craving the movement until they cracked and set into place. This was it. Today was the day that he was now considered an adult at court. 

Climbing out of bed, he marched over to ring for Stamford to dress, and waited by the window to see the sun peek it's way through the pink and orange clouds. Not even five minutes later there was a knock at the door.

“Come in” Johnuin called, as Stamford popped his head through the door with armfuls of clothes and set them neatly on the bed.

“Good morning, your majesty and what a lovely morning it is.” 

Johnuin turned to him with a smile, “Very lovely indeed, Stamford. What have you brought for today?” Johnuin walked over to the four-poster bed, looking down at the rainbow of colour before him. 

“It is a special occasion, your highness, so I brought your finest silk tunics and tabards. Is there one that’s caught your eye?” 

John scanned over reds and purples, dark greens to light blues until they stopped at a yellow ochre tunic with the emblem of a sun stitched out on the chest, “This one will do.”

-

Dressing was always a tedious chore for the prince. On many different occasions he would protest, saying instead that he was quite capable on dressing himself. His mother ended up ignoring him, getting Micheal Stamford to take on the position. Micheal and Johnuin had known each other since they were children; Mike’s father holding the same position for the King, many years before.

Johnuin let a huge yawn escape him as he stretched his arms above his head as the last piece of fabric was draped into place. With him all dressed and ready to start the day, Stamford collected the rest of the tailored fabrics and set out to the door. Johnuin anticipated the click of the door behind him, but instead came a friendly, “And a very Happy Birthday to you, your highness.” 

-

Nineteen years went by so fast. Looking back, Johnuin didn't regret a second of his childhood. He had a loving and caring mother and an annoying but respectable older sister, he went on adventures through the secret passages littering his home and traveled through their surrounding village. He made friends wherever he went, and had an imagination of gold, what else could he have asked for. 

Johnuin smiled at himself through the large mirror in his dressing room; admiring the precise stitching of the decorated sun on his breast - before a small, pale object caught his eye. The grin on his mouth faltered as he stared at it's reflection before turning around and walking toward it. 

Displayed proudly - even though slightly out of place - stood a half burned candle. The evidence of its one warm flame still lingered through the dry, melted wax and charred wick. Johnuin took a breath, tentatively touching the cool texture before his mind flooded with memories of that evening, twelve years ago. 

He recalled those piercing blue eyes and dark curled hair, as if the odd boy were right there in front of him. Johnuin grinned when he remembered the lie he told his mother the next day to be able to escape into the forest alone once again. He had sat by the sparkling pool with his bow and a small collection of freshly pressed flowers in hand, anticipating the moment he would present them to his new found friend. 

Four hours he waited; the orange glow from the sun casting the sky in a hazy pink and purple hue, before deciding to head back to the castle. 

He went back five days consecutively after that. The boy had still not come. 

Johnuin’s eyes shot open and grimaced at the cream stock before turning on his heel and heading out the room.

- 

Yela was in the hall speaking to one of the castle staff when she saw a head of gold make its way in her direction - stopping to stand right in front. Johnuin had a big smile on his face when his mother pulled him into a big hug and planted a million kisses on his head. 

“How big you’ve grown, my son. I am proud as any mother would be that you have become such a kind and handsome young man.” 

Johnuin ran a hand through his hair when his mother released him and gently kissed her cheek, “I wouldn't be the man I am today without you, mum.” 

“You’re right, you'd still be a little arse without mums intervention,” a voice joked from behind them.

Johnuin shook his head with a sly grin as he turned to his sister, “Pleasure as always, _Harriet._ ”

Harry groaned and stomped over to tower over her younger brother, “It's Harry now, I've told you that!”

Johnuin just rolled his eyes in mock pleasure, “Sure, Harry. Now, last time I checked it is my birthday, so you're supposed to hold in your temper for today.” 

Harry had opened her mouth but a sigh and pointed look in her director from their mother, made her shut it again. Yela smiled in thanks and turned back to her son, who wore a cocky grin and arched brow as if he had proven his point, “Are you ready for tonight, my love?” 

“As ready as I'll ever be, making my first appearance at court,” Johnuin sighed. 

“As long as you keep you head up and mouth shut you’ll do fine,” Harry winked before adding, “You’re nineteen years old now, Johnuin, so sadly you need to give up your fantasy embellished mind and the thought that dragons might actually exist.” 

Johnuin chuckled, shaking his head, “They aren't real, Harry. C’mon, how dull do you think I am?” 

-

“Dull.”

“Sherlock….”

“Mycroft, I'm not going out in public dressed like a wizard from the Seven Isles! I'll wear what I initially picked, or stay in this cave for eternity, as you so graciously put it before.”

“Sherlock, put your trousers on!” 

“What are you going to do, make me?”

The roar that erupted from the cave shook the mountain. Several trees died that day.

- 

Time was edging closer to when the prince would be officially announced at court. The ballroom was ornately decorated with glass and crystal, making it shine even as the light outside began to cast low in the sky. 

In one corner of the large room, stood a beautifully crafted harp out of gold and Johnuin was so tempted to walk over and start playing before the festivities began. He did his rounds around the room instead, answering quick questions about seating and crowd control before being bombarded with Stamford once again to secure his gold crown and matching cape to his yellow ochre tunic. 

It was when the chime from the front hall went off that Johnuin secured a golden mask around his eyes and proceeded to where he would be announced. 

“Off to battle.”

-

Sherlock tapped his foot impatiently at the crowd in front on him. It was just a bloody party where the prince under the hill was now becoming an _‘official’_ adult. He rolled his eyes at the fuss these humans were putting out; it wasn't _that_ big of a deal in his opinion, he never had a ‘growing up’ party. Especially when he had just turned twenty five years almost a month ago! 

Sherlock snuck out of his brother’s grasp at the dragon’s New Moon festival when he saw mass amounts of lights and rows of carriages set on the road toward the castle under the hill. It had certainly piqued the young dragons interest. Sherlock waited patiently, his eyes glued to his brothers back, as he watched Mycroft disappear amongst their kind - hiding behind human skin - before sneaking into the shadows and leaving their camp. 

He was amazed though how he never heard or knew much about their neighboring human kingdom. Not the names of the rulers, the history behind their stone walls, and he most certainly didn't fit in amongst the common villagers with his black embellished doublet and deep purple shirt underneath, black breeches and long black riding boots. He looked ever the piece of royalty in his get-up and as he noticed the stares directed his way, Sherlock held his tongue between his teeth lest he blow his cover.

As the line drew near the front gates of the castle - and he managed to snake his way into the crowd which dressed more like him - Sherlock overheard the requirement of a invitation in order to attend the party. He cursed under his breath; of course…humans. He scanned the area around him, making sure no eyes were following him any longer before he ducked around the side and scaled the large stone wall, shifting to his claws for easy maneuver.  

Bingo.

-

The hall was filled. Dresses and robes and clothes of every colour were now flowing around the floor. The sight itself was quite mesmerizing as the music played and the dance took form right before Johnuin's eyes. 

“So now that you’re older, be prepared for the pestering of finding a suitor,” Harry remarked beside him in her chair. Johnuin just rolled his eyes in response, sticking out his tongue in mock disgust, “I'm not there yet.” 

“Says you,” she responded, “the court has different ideas. They’ve been at my back for so long, I just tell them to go pleasure a horse now.” 

Johnuin snorted at his sister’s crudeness, “Harry, you’re supposed to be a lady!” 

“Actually, my sweet little brother,” she joked, pinching his cheeks until they were red from her nails, “I’m nothing like a lady whatsoever, and I plan on never acting like one. I do very much enjoy my title as ‘The Odd Princess’. Let's not forget that three women had to stuff me in this god-awful gown.” 

“And you were looking so dashing, Harry.” Johnuin mumbled, rubbing at his sore cheeks. 

She had just managed to stick her tongue out back at him when their mother approached the seat between them, shaking her head with a sigh. Yela had mouthed the word ‘behave’ before standing before her throne and addressing the crowd with a raised hand. “I welcome and thank all of you lords and ladies of the land to come and celebrate my sons important day into adulthood. Nineteen years from today marks the day that my boy was brought into this world and grew to become the kind, considerate, strong and thoughtful man he is now. I present my son, your prince, Johnuin!” 

Johnuin stood up and bowed, kindly addressing the room before taking his seat once more while he waited for his mother's speech to finish. His eyes gazed lazily around the room, noticing the looks of several young woman and men eyeing him intently before he caught he sight of ice blue orbs staring directly at him. Johnuin's breath caught in his throat.

It was him.

 

_To be continued in part 2..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovely artwork done by @jim.moriarty.moran on Instagram [here](https://www.instagram.com/p/BaRfoyyj9tc/?hl=en) (Please go check it out!)


	4. The Party: Part 2

It couldn't be….could it? 

_No_. 

But then Sherlock took another look, narrowing his eyes in concentration while the deep blue ones still watched him behind a golden mask. He let his gaze roam, taking in the golden hair and thin lips until it hit him. 

It _was_ him. The boy in the forest... _Johnuin._

Sherlock's heart hammered at the thought of how handsome the man had become. He was always beautiful, even then. But now. Now, he was a force to be reckoned with. His stout body had filled in with muscle underneath the cloth and his chest was broad, proudly displaying the emblem of a golden sun to match his demeanour. 

It was all too good to be true. Too _real_ in fact, and Sherlock couldn't help it but let his feet guide him forward until he was standing behind a group of nobles, several feet away from the bottom steps. 

Johnuin's eyes left him; Sherlock noticing him take a deep breath before starting a conversation with his sister who sat two seats beside. He wanted to talk to him, to at least hear his voice and see how much it had changed from the high pitched tone of adolescence. 

Just examining him now, piecing together the past twelve years of what he could gather from the prince’s posture down to his the way his left hand held a slight tremor, Johnuin remained a mystery - an unknown. Sherlock revelled the unknown. Especially when the ‘unknown’ took shape of a human male prince. 

Sherlock's concentration was broken by a clap. His eyes darted to the Queen who stood regally with hands clasped in front, grabbing the audiences attention once more. “It is time for the performance done by the prince!” Her head turned to meet her sons gaze before he nodded and proceeded down the steps, walking right past the dragon, and straight to a small stage holding a grand musical instrument. 

Sherlock grinned at the golden harp, frosted coloured eyes catching a hint of candlelight before his mind came up with a brilliant but bold idea. He vanished within the crowd, slipping into a dark corner, fingertips buzzing with lighting blue magic. 

\-  

Johnuin sought him out from the crowd beneath his lashes, fingertips plucking the strings idly from memory. To no avail did he catch sight of the dark mop of hair or blue eyes again and he cursed under his breath. It couldn't have been a figment of his imagination.

No. 

He plucked the last cord, letting it resonate throughout the abnormally quiet ballroom just before a wave of applause poured through the air. Johnuin blushed, getting up from his seat to take a bow before gesturing to the court musicians to take over. Yela walked over, wrapping her son tightly in his arms and planting a kiss on his head, “You were lovely, my son. How did you ever learn to play so well?”

“It's because I've had an excellent teacher” he winked, tilting his head to plant a kiss on his mother's cheek. 

Yela smiled down, giving him a squeeze before releasing him and grabbing Johnuin's arm, “There’s actually someone I would like for you to meet, she comes from the Eastern kingdoms and has travelled quite far to meet you.” 

Johnuin took a breath, holding in a sigh at the knowing look his mother had given. He was nineteen now; expected to enter into the courting scene and find a spouse - specifically one of noble blood. Johnuin dreaded this moment the most; he knew he wasn't ready to find a wife or start a family. He wanted to train, to join the army or better yet, to test his skills and run the battalion. 

Around him, nobles from all over the globe glided along the floor in swoops of coloured fabrics as the musicians played on. He watched with rapt attention as both men and women lifted their partners and twirled before placing them down to move along the floor once again. Johnuin was so caught up in the scene that he didn't even realize his mother had brought him into new company. 

Yela cleared her throat until her sons head jerked to the two people in front, “Lord Moran and lady Mary, I would like you to meet my son.”

Johnuin's eyes shot to the younger woman, she looked at least a year or two younger, who stood in front of him. Her short blond hair was neatly done in a flowered clip that outlined her pretty face. Johnuin couldn't help to glance over at the tall and broad figure beside her, he held such a hardened look and carried the same eyes as…his daughter.

Lady Mary bowed and outreached a hand to be kissed before smiling brightly and batting her lashes at the flustered prince, “It's such an pleasure to meet you, your majesty.”

Johnuin nodded respectfully, forcing a small smile on his lips, “The pleasure is all mine lady Mary. I'm unfortunate to say I've not heard much about you” 

Yela gave him a side glance while the young lady giggled into her hand, “I would be honoured to inform you of-“, Mary was cut off as her eyes travelled to look behind the prince’s shoulder.

 Johnuin frowned in confusion and turned to be faced with those familiar ice blue eyes, this time covered in a black and richly decorated mask. There was only a second for Johnuin to realize his mouth was gaping before a deep baritone voice started. 

“I hate to interrupt, but I was wondering if his majesty would care to dance.” 

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as he stood, captivated by the gorgeous man before him. The man was beautiful - stunningly so. He heard his mother take a breath and knew she was about to voice her displeasure. 

Before even realizing what he was doing, Johnuin reached out his arm to the familiar stranger with a grin, “I would love to.” 

The tall, dark and handsome stranger gripped it in acceptance and strode to the floor grabbing the prince’s hand within his own and lowering the other to his waist, “It looked like you needed a reason for escape.” 

Johnuin chuckled, swaying to the music while the man led them around the room, “Quite an observation. Are you master in reading people's thoughts, sir?” 

The man shrugged with a tiny grin, “I tend to read people through appearance and body language. Quite a simple task, but not taken well by some recipients.” 

“Oh? And what, pray tell, can you read from me?”

The man held his breath for a second before focusing back on the prince, “You're a bit of a puzzle, prince Johnuin. What I say may not be what you wish to hear. Some secrets are always up for being revealed, is this your consent, highness?” 

Johnuin nodded in anticipation, gripping the man's hand tighter. 

The stranger sighed before opening the book that was ‘prince Johnuin of the human kingdoms’ and reciting as much information as he could, explaining his reasoning as to why “There's a tremor in your left hand” to “The ruffle of your collar suggests”. The man went on and on, Johnuin's eyes widening each passing second the words spilled from this strangers mouth. 

“And then there's your pulse...” 

Johnuin froze in his spot, causing the taller man to pause; hands still clasped together and resting on his waist. “What about it…”

“It's elevated. I've also noted the dilated pupils. I expect you think that the heart may be a mystery for some, but the chemistry is rather simple and very destructive…” he purred  “Wouldn't you agree, your majesty?” 

Johnuin gaped once again. This man was amazing…he was astounding…he was “Brilliant…”

The figure frowned, blinking several times behind his dark mask. “Y-you really think so?”

“Brilliant…absolutely brilliant.” 

The deep baritone chuckle that rose up between them made Johnuin shiver in delight. He wanted to know more.

 Being in each other's hold, standing in the centre of the room while figures danced around them, made it feel as if they were invisible to the world. The mystery, the intrigue, the pure talent just made the prince that much more curious. It was the boy, that much he was sure. Same eyes, same intelligence and same mop of dark curls, and of course he noticed the same smile with prominent Cupid's bow. But the name he never got. What was his name?

“I never got your n-“

A shrill rose up from the crowd and Johnuin had to blink before realizing his dancing partner was no longer in his clutch, but halfway across the room on his back; a line parted through the sea of people. 

Johnuin reached for the dagger hidden within his boot when he finally noticed a smaller but intimidating figure emerge from the shadows. The man had dark black eyes that felt as if they could pierce through the human soul just by looking. His long, dark cloak cascaded down his narrow frame but couldn't cover the claws that sprouted from his fingers. 

“Couldn’t spend a day following orders from big brother now could you, Sherlock.”

_Sherlock..._

Sherlock groaned, getting up from his spot on the floor while dusting off his breeches nonchalantly, “Heard there was a party, wanted to see what all the fuss was about.” 

The short man laughed, “Curiosity did kill the cat, you know.” 

“Good thing I'm not a cat…”

Johnuin tightened his grip on the weapon as the man slowly approached him, un-wielding any sort of danger other than the toothy grin that held sharp fangs. He approached as if in slow motion; the shock having people frozen in place with wide eyes. It was extremely unsettling…

“Leave him be, Moriarty. He has no quarrels with you.”

“Not him, no….but his coward of a father did…” Moriarty growled, flexing the claws on his hands as he neared the prince. 

Sherlock had managed to slither closer to Johnuin's surprise, as he didn't even realize the other man's presence until he was almost five feet away. 

“You need to leave, your majesty” Sherlock muttered, eyes still trained on the approaching figure. 

“W..what is he…” Johnuin stuttered as his left hand flexed around the dagger..

“A dragon” Sherlock growled, almost inhuman.

 The sound itself made Johnuin take a step back in fear, “D-dragons aren't real…they don't exist…”

“Oh really now?” Moriarty piped up in an eerie sing song voice, “Dragons are just little children's stories that are told before bedtime aren't they…well, highness…want to see a fairytale come to life?”

And just like that, the world unfolded right before Johnuin's eyes. It was almost as if someone had snapped a branch beneath their feet at how quickly and unexpectedly he was shoved to the side by a surging force. His head hit the tile as the mask flew off his face, a whiteness clouding his eyes and blinding his vision for just a moment. 

He heard his mother and sister scream and call his name before Johnuin’s eyes popped open, registering his surroundings. The crowd went wild; bodies scrambling for an exit while cries and a sound he could not place, shook the room. Moriarty has proven his point about childhood fairytales as one stood in the centre of the ballroom now, reaching so high it almost touched the ceiling. 

_A dragon._  

The beast was decorated in deep black scales that riddled its lithe but strong body. Johnuin could only stare in complete shock before his attention was drawn to the other figure, also standing in the centre of the room. Sherlock stood with mask discarded on the ground and posture ready for a fight. But there was something off about him…something….

No.

Johnuin's eyes widened until they could go no more at the sight right in front of him. It looked as if Sherlock had grown a set of horns and claws as well; mouth open in a growl with hefty looking teeth to match. His skin glowed from the candlelight around the room, making the exposed flesh on his body shimmer, at the same time as it picked up a purplish hue. If things couldn't be even more straightforward that Sherlock was indeed a dragon, a long and proportionate tail to his human-like body, swayed causally at his back.  

Johnuin startled when he felt hands grab at his shoulders. He groaned as Yela was starting to pull him to his feet when the black dragon - Moriarty - lunged and knocked into the stone walls of the ballroom, Sherlock just managing to dodge out of the way. 

“SHERLOCK!” Johnuin yelled, grabbing for his dagger all the while Yela tried to pull him away. Guards rushed into the room, swords and shields at the ready. There was a loud roar that shook the room, pounding steps that gained speed as it gradually got closer, and a ear piercing scream behind him, before he felt a rush of scorching heat against his back. 

Again, Johnuin found himself on the ground; the cool tile acting a small comfort for what felt like hours before he realized he was being hoisted up by strong arms and carried quickly out into the darkness of night. 

“You're ok…it's going to  be fine…I-I'm so sorry...” were the last words continuously muttered to him in the deafening darkness before Johnuin blacked out completely.

We're those words of reassurance meant for him…or just the “I'm sorry, I'm so…so sorry…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got another chapter hammered out! This one took the longest to write because my mind gave up on me. Was lucky enough to post this on my birthday as a gift to you all! Hope you enjoy! <3
> 
>  
> 
> More artwork done by the wonderful @art_anouk on Instagram check it out [here](https://www.instagram.com/p/BbRe3P-DEpw/)


	5. Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally another chapter! Apologies for the delay, but life's been interesting and motivation has been lacking with this fic. None the less, I will not leave this story unfinished even if it takes a while to complete. Enjoy!

Stuck solely in a cave for the past twelve years really put things in perspective for the young dragonling. Days were either spent on experiments, sulking or both. Either way, Sherlock kept his journal up to date and even circled one event in particular that changed his whole outlook on the world which he lived in. Days were long, nights...even longer. 

Mycroft came into the cave after another meeting one night when Sherlock was in his sixteenth year. He looked exhausted and a puff of smoke left his nostrils as he sighed. “Brother mine, we must have a chat.” 

Sherlock set down his quill and examined his hand, noticing his magic getting stronger and his scales barely visible on the white, milky skin. “What of?” he asked, in a tone utterly bored and careless as he closed the journal and began to tidy the small desk. 

There was silence in the room as his answer and Sherlock sighed, stopped his busy hands, and got up front his seat, turning to face his dragon brother who looked none too impressed. “What do you want, Mycroft” he tried again.

“Moriarty is back.”

Sherlock's human hands clenched at his sides.

“There's been reports of sightings within the walls of our neighboring human kingdom.”

“So what are you planning to do?” Sherlock asked, not even trying to hide the bitterness in his voice.

“Nothing,” Mycroft responded flatly. 

“What do you mean, nothing?”

“Just what I said, Sherlock. We cannot interfere again, knowing what happened last time when mother and father got involved. Sentiment.”

Sherlock walked over to face his brother head on, he didn't even bother to worry about shifting because the sizzling annoyance inside did it for him. Two dragon forms now stood in their cave, Sherlock’s ice blue eyes narrowed slightly. “Which is exactly why we must do something, Mycroft. If Mortiary plans to attack again, human or dragon form, they will try to bring it back to us. Think, Mycroft! You'd be putting the colony in danger by letting him go through with whatever plan is brewing in that twisted mind of his!”

Mycroft did not seem fazed, “You hit the nail exactly on the head, brother mine. We will not do anything so that the colony will not be found. The humans have indeed believed that they wiped us out completely during the war, but alas this was their fault and mistake - such is in their nature. By even attempting to silence Moriarty, or in fact, kill him, would be risking our own hides!” 

Sherlock huffed smoke through his snout, “And then when the human kingdom falls, what then?” 

“We live. Just like we've always done.” 

~

It was almost a year later when Mycroft came into to the cave where his brother lay nestled onto lavish pillows in human form when he uttered the words, “Moriarty is gone.” 

It would be the words that eased him, yet the same ones that put doubt and uneasiness in the pit of Sherlock’s stomach. 

~

Sherlock let his feet carry both him and Johnuin into the forest, going deeper and deeper - not even taking a second to let memories wash over him of their first meeting as he passed the silver pool. 

His heart was going crazy, just as his brain was replaying everything that had happened. Did he do the right thing by abandoning his brother? Was fate leading him to save Johnuin by being there? What would have happened had he not been spotted by Moriarty, let alone gone to the human party at all? 

The thoughts ceased however when the man in his arms made a sound almost as if attempting to form words but failed. Sherlock looked down at him and noticed that his eyes were still closed and heavy. He subconsciously picked up his speed as his feet lead him in the direction of the dragons. It would be a bad idea, of course. A very very very bad idea. But it's the only plan he has, and Mycroft would have to deal with him before he could even lay a hand on Johnuin. 

_My Johnuin._

The air of possessiveness is broken when the limp body shuffles and moves. The young dragon pauses taking instead to rest the human against a tree. 

“Johnuin” Sherlock murmurs, gently moving a matted piece of hair off of the prince's face. 

Sherlock cursed himself when he noticed the blood pooling from the human's snout and from several cuts to the face. He should have known better about the delicacy of human hide. He should have done better. Sherlock doesn't waste any more time and rips a piece of fabric from his ornate shirt, wiping at the blood while the body beneath him groans at the contact.

The dragon pulls back his hand, “I'm hurting you....forgive me.” 

There's no response other than the groaning from the limp body that makes Sherlock’s stomach turn with worry. He wastes no time picking up Johnuin again and continues to his family, picking up speed and practically running.  

He will save Johnuin. Even if it kills him. 

~

He smelled the food even before hearing the voices or flutes playing their ancient music as he neared their camp. He rests Johnuin down once again, promising his swift return with a nuzzle to the humans head before running to the glowing lights in the distance. 

The dragons were mobbed together around a bonfire of their creation with goblets made of gold in hand, and each of them decorated in their most luxurious and elegant robes and dresses. The new moon festival was always a spectacle to witness, even after all these years. Sherlock had only witnessed one other festival in his life, and by no means was he disappointed with this one. 

He shook his head of branches and leaves once in the clearing and wasted no time spotting his brother amongst the other upper-class drag with their gold proudly displayed on their persons. He had to go about this situation delicately and carefully. Not only was his life on the line, but also Johnuin. And he wasn't giving up Johnuin just yet. Sherlock dusted off his trousers and ruffled his hair before adjusting the ripped up shirt to the best of his ability and marching over to his brother. 

Mycroft didn't even hide the utter shock on his face at the state of his brother approaching, but excused himself from the group, probably to avoid any issues. Sherlock watched as he stalked the rest of the distance and grabbed his arm forcefully. “You better have a good excuse for this, Sherlock” Mycroft hissed. 

“We have a bit of an issue, _brother mine_.” 

Mycroft rubbed his temple in annoyance, “What is it?” 

“He's back.” 

~ 

The pain in his head and shoulder were too much to bear. It felt as if he was crushed with a boulder rather than pushed down to the floor. Johnuin groaned at the fit of detest his back was giving and he slowly blinked his eyes open, trying to register exactly where he was. He skimmed over the brush and at the twigs by his feet. How he got there exactly was a bit blurry but none the less, he wasn't exactly sure what he was doing here. 

Johnuin shut his eyes once again, ignoring the throbbing pain to instead try to remember the events that transpired before the blackout. He recalled the party and the music, the laughter and the comments made by Harry. 

Johnuin’s eyes shot open. 

He remembered the towering creature encased in black, teeth sharp as knives with claws to match. He remembered the human-like figure that bore a tail and was calling his name…

He remembered…. the Dragons. 

_Sherlock._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully not such a large gap for the next chapter, but we'll see how it goes :P 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated <3

**Author's Note:**

> This work will NOT have a schedule for updates.  
> Chapters will be posted when I have the time to write. >.<
> 
> Comments & Kudos are always appreciated <3


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